


Reach

by Qantaish



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Arguing, Canon Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jonathan is actually soft, M/M, Sock has a crush on Jonathan, apologizing, i need more smug jonathan in my life, jonathans sandwich fetish is a character trait, mostly me just fucking around with their touch dynamic here, or atleast his hand LMAOOO, slowburn maybe, smug jonathan, sock is good at math
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qantaish/pseuds/Qantaish
Summary: Sock discovers what it's like to touch Jonathan's hand, and he can't stop thinking about it.
Relationships: Jonathan Combs & Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski | Sock, Jonathan Combs/Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski | Sock
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Reach

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this at 3 FUCKIN am, and I don't have the brains to make sure it's good. If it sucks blame me bye
> 
> The touch dynamic will be completely fanon in this btw!!!

"Kill yourself, kill yourself, stab yourself in the head! You can always find a way to kill yourself, kill yourself!"

Jonathan irked as the bothersome song poked at all his nerves, his bloodshot eyes staring at the sandwich he was smearing butter on. The annoying song that Sock was chirping sounded like a child's rhyme, not counting the out-of-place gloomy lyrics. What pissed him off the most, however, was how out of tune it was. All the words were mushed together as if he was delivering it on the spot, hardly rhyming either. The demon circled enthusiastically, his voice singing in the background like a record stuck on replay. He'd been vocalizing this stupid tune ever since Jonathan had woken up, pestering him to death. Sock would be hoping that the statement would become literal. The apathetic teenager grumbled as he yearned to cover his ears, but his palms were way too occupied with preparing his breakfast, and he sure was starving.

"Kill yourself~ and then kill yourself again! and then you can kill yourself once more~!" Sock did a little dance in the air but stopped abruptly and scrunched his face. "Kill yourself... and... agh, darn it! I don't have any more lyrics!" He held his head in grief, Jonathan allowing out a relieved sigh as he finished his lunch with another bread piece, grabbing all the ingredients and storing them back into their original localities.

"Jonathan c'mon! Help me come up with lyrics! We'll make a song together!" The demon flapped his hands around frantically, face bright and innocent as if he wasn't the main cause for Jonathan's misery. "No," He said coldly, Sock's expression withering like a flower.

The hoodie-wearing lad made his way into his living room, the demon boy following him shortly behind. He sat down on the couch in silence, neglecting whatever weird ghost was haunting him and just concentrating on himself. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, about to commence his first bite on his long-awaited meal.

"Kill yourself! Kill yourself! Kill yourself!" Jonathan almost dropped his sandwich in surprise as the powerful and obnoxious chanting roared into his ears, the teen almost going deaf meanwhile the demon had been standing right beside him. He must've had the grand chance to sneak up behind the human, and considering how he's a literal ghost, it would be way less noticeable than an actual human being crawling upon him. It felt like he was operating a megaphone up to his ear, his eardrums long gone shattered. "Kill your-!" A hand slammed Sock's mouth shut and cut off his yelling. He then pushed him away, the demon sent hovering away in the air. "Would you shut up?!" The other just giggled mischievously.

Sock considered continuing for a second until he recognized that yelling kill yourself over and over felt very raw. Yes, he knew it presumably dealt a lot of damage to the sleep-deprived mortal, but he additionally felt like his windpipe was becoming hoarse, even with him being lifeless and all.

Jonathan could hardly take the boy's antics on scheduled hours, but having to deal with him even on the assumed sweet relief of weekends made him even weaker then he'd ordinarily be. His mom might pick up on it since she's begun to notice how he keeps aimlessly talking to himself in his room and sometimes even touching something that isn't there. She's mentioned it maybe once or twice, Jonathan cursing her as she joked about his old imaginary friend from back when he was only 5 years old coming back to him, but never truly got into a deep talk about it with her.

Sock drifted towards the teen with an attentive but playful look on his face. This rapidly alerted Jonathan.

"What are you doing?" He shuffled away with discomfort as the other got closer and closer, his eyes tearing away from the bright television momentarily. He trained his focus on trying to figure out what the little demon was doing. However, as he felt Sock's hands pass through him and making his body shiver stiffly, he loosened his shoulders. Sock whined with irritation, retracting his hand and staring at Jonathan with a disgruntled expression. He then aggressively waved his hand through the youngster as if trying to swat away an annoying bug, until it was promptly stopped by a firm grasp.

"Stop that, It's annoying." Sock grumpily kept a fixed eye on the physical contact between them. "That's not fair! How come you get to touch me?!" Jonathan scanned lazily back and forth between Sock's face and his hand seizing the demon's arm. A sly smirk formed on his lips as an idea came to his mind.

The smug teen let go of the other, his intentions unclear to the spirit. Standing up and reaching out, both of his hands now placed on the ghost's shoulders- all Sock could give him was a confused glance until he was promptly shoved downwards- sending him to strike against the floor. He yelped, unprepared for the sudden motion, Jonathan switching out to hold him down with his foot on his chest instead so he could put his hands in his hoodie pockets. A cold snicker erupted from the other, Sock feeling his rage grow inside of him. Jonathan watched him struggle for a few seconds.

"Aww, just look at you, can't even get up." He kept grinning as he pressed his foot against his chest, trying his best to seize him in place. "Shut up, you nutcracker!" The demon kept wrestling under the other- until he came to the realization that he attained ghostly abilities. He then skillfully phased through the floor- Jonathan catching himself almost falling over as the form disappeared from under him.

The silence of the room, say for the TV, remained for a good few seconds before Sock came back fluttering through the surface. His sharp face irked at Jonathan as he neared him once again. "What'd you do that for!" The other chuckled at his short dismay, seating himself back on the couch.

"Entertainment." The self-satisfied look on his face didn't seem to ease up, and it got on all of Sock's nerves. He growled with annoyance at being used for amusement, the noise rendering into a childish imitation of a t-rex for Jonathan's pale ears. If Sock was alive, he'd lunge right at him out of fury. The displeased demon played a video of the scenario in his mind out of sheer self-indulgence.

"Now stay out of my way while I'm eating, or else."

-

Jonathan started noticing a strange little behavior since that incident.

Sometimes when there was a space from the dialogue between them, mostly just Jonathan answering Sock's words with silence until the demon finally gave up, the other would try to nudge the human. It wasn't a strong feeling- just a little cold tickle at his skin. It was as if Sock was trying to put all his blazing energy into trying to touch the soft fabric of his hoodie, and failing at doing so. When Jonathan would peak at the corner of his vision, he could see the determined little glint burning in the silly hat-wearing boy's eyes. He'd been doing this kind of thing a lot recently, and seemingly never giving up. One time the fake blonde could've sworn he felt a cold little stroke on his hoodie as well, which was probably just his imagination, he assumed.

When the two of them realized their touch dynamic, the teen started using it for his benefit. He would sometimes push the demon away or throw him out of the room- furthermore might even strangle him at times when he got way too irritating for Jonathan. It helped to get the disturbance away, and Sock's job was getting way harder. He'd complained to his boss- but he informed him that ' _Y'know, I can do lots of things, but bending the rules of physical interaction between human and demon- Nah, that's not in my department._ ' So he got nowhere with that idea.

As Jonathan came up with ways to swat away the demon haunting him, Sock came up with solutions. Sometimes he'd be talking to him from places he couldn't reach. The ceiling, at the front of the classroom- or even inside of objects. He was more careful around the teenager now that he knew he could touch him physically- and even if he couldn't feel pain, it still did prevent him from doing his job fluently. Though sometimes the mortal didn't actually push him away, mostly when he was bored or alone, and Sock would usually value those moments and try his best to get close to Jonathan.

-

"Are you okay?"

The demon boy looked down at the human with a concerned expression. Jonathan groaned as he rustled himself out of sticks and bushes, moderate pain sticking at him where the branches would scratch his body. He hissed, thorns prickling through his jeans and hoodie and into his skin. The teenager had somehow ended up in a ditch while walking home from school, and Sock caught himself almost laughing at the unfortunate event for the gloomy fake blonde. "I-I'm good." He hated forests, they were just so... painful. It was like every plant was working it's best to make sure he was extremely uncomfortable. The singular fortunate thing in this tricky situation is that all the water from the ditch had evaporated away at this time of year- and Jonathan was definitely not in the mood to come home all soaked and wet.

Sock, out of instinct, floated down and pulled out a helping hand towards Jonathan, his ghostly arm softly extending to be reachable from the ditch. Jonathan's gaze lingered on it for a feeble moment. He slowly lifted his arm, the rustling of bushes reaching their ears as he managed to get his sore hand skyward. He securely took Sock's hand and was then unsteadily yanked up.

Jonathan heaved a relieved sigh after arriving on the familiar stable ground again and securing his poor posture, his breathing growing steadier by the second. After a while, he abruptly shot his eyes wide open and stared blankly at their handhold. Realizing the contact they were making, Jonathan promptly grew unsettled. "Let go of me!" He barked- and as if on cue, Sock's hand passed right through the grip, Jonathan gaining an uneasy shiver all the way up to his spine as it occurred.

"Woah."

They both stared at what had happened, Sock's lips forming into a giddy little smile, while Jonathan was just groaning. He wiped off the leaves and branches still sticking to the fabric of his clothes. Sock clenched his fists and squealed, excitement filling his eyes. He held Jonathan's hand! It could surprisingly happen! He could actually feel the warmth of the others bleached skin in his own hand, the realization making him extremely joyous. Two stars reflected in his already big pupils as if he was successfully displaying the whole galaxy inside of them. He'd been trying really hard to focus and physically touch Jonathan in some fashion, but he never seemed to be able to accomplish it. But knowing that he could, if the teenager allowed it, made him excited. The only problem was getting Jonathan to trust him.

That was when Sock began his attempts to trick him into it.

\- Attempt #1 -

The human walked into the kitchen, completely unaware of any changes done in the hushed room. His eyes groggily settled onto one of the cupboards, making his way towards it and lazily opening it. When expecting to browse a neat bag of his favorite bread, there was no such thing sitting there. It was completely empty of the object of his craving, and he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He was almost certain it was there when he ate breakfast earlier. Just then, a voice greeted from above him. It wasn't all that shocking though, as he was used to it.

"Hey, handsome!" The demon's face beamed innocently as his feet hung down, dangling back and forth from the top of the highest kitchen cabinets. The human let his gaze wander upwards to meet the eyes of the other. "What are you doing up there?" "Oh, y'know, just checking out the view." He fluttered his eyelashes, looking directly towards Jonathan. The teenager just sighed in return, turning his vision away- until he noticed something. The bread was sitting on top of the cupboards, right next to where Sock was sitting.

He groaned at the disturbing sight, preparing to put his knee on top of the kitchen counter and drive himself up. "Hey, Jonathan! wouldn't it be easier if I floated you up?" Sock hovered down, providing his hands out to hold the teenager, but he sternly gave him a sharp look. "No."

"Pleaseeee!" Jonathan ignored his whiny pleas, crawling onto the counter and passing right through him. He shivered involuntarily while he reached up to the object of his attention currently placed on the cupboard. When he crawled back down to the ground again, Sock pouted at his failed attempt. He crossed his arms, watching as the human prepared his sandwich once again.

\- Attempt #2 -

"Jonathan, watch out!"

Sock screamed aloud as a rapid rolling cart headed straight for Jonathan, who was standing by the window in the art room. The clear bottles of paintbrushes and stained color pallets were shaking as the wheels whirled in great rates against the floor. The teenager turned hastily to the sound, but not soon enough as the cart hit him in the lower part of his body, making him stumble backward. Sock had made sure that the open window was right behind Jonathan before pushing the cart, purposing on making him fall right out of the frame. The demon rushed forward immediately, watching as the human caught onto the bottom border of the window's outline to hold himself up. The youngster grunted as he tried pulling himself up, not daring to look down the long distance between his toes and the grass beneath.

"Let me help you!" Sock said, offering a helping hand just like he had prior by the ditch, except this time he was completely aware of his action. Jonathan's face looked bewildered at the other's face, "Dude, if you pull me up- everyone will go nuts!" "But-" Before the demon could finish, a ginger-haired classmate approached the window and passed right through Sock, gaining a shiver up their back. They seemed to try to disregard it, urgently throwing out their hands and grabbing onto the struggling teen's arms in a secure grip, then dragging him up until he safely climbed into the room again. The ghost boy grumpily glared at the stranger of a classmate, watching as Jonathan thanked them for their help.

\- Attempt #3 -

Jonathan walked down the school hallway, seeing the lockers flood by as he browsed for his familiar number imprinted on the optimized storages. The afternoon sun shined brightly in the blue sky, which was dusted with little cloud shapes that spread all over it- like gentle paint strokes on an enormous canvas. The tired teenager was about ready to collapse on the floor as he made his way to the dusty locker, nonchalantly opening it without thinking about the absence of the annoying demon that seemed to constantly follow him around. The vacancy of the spirit was short-lived, however, since he was resting right inside of the locker the teenager approached. Jonathan, who had yet to realize this fact, subconsciously reached out his hand to grab his equipment. The moment went by fast, his hand accidentally locking together with the one belonging to the other. He stood there wordlessly, his eyes fastening themselves onto the smirking little lad inside of his temporary storage, who was happily holding his dead like hand out perfectly for the other to unexpectedly grab. Jonathan quickly let go as his puzzled response cleared, giving the other a sour glare meanwhile he latched onto the books he needed- then shoving the hatch well closed.

Sock, on the other hand, felt his breath hitch as the darkness filled the locker he had placed himself in previously. He looked down, his eyes trailing his near-invisible hand as he smiled with distorted glee. He waved his hands around excitedly, a girly sounding squeal erupting from him as he backtracked on the moment that had just passed him. The soft feel of the human's skin- It was mesmerizing. He found himself feeling around his palm, remembering the tingle of another's hand holding onto his own. Even if it wasn't exactly a hold, it was still there. A type of feeling he longed for. He smiled happily as he faded out of the dark locker.

\- Attempt #4? -

Sock honestly didn't know what to do for his 4th attempt. The whole day had been failures, say for the last one of course- but he'd tried that trick again, and it seemed like Jonathan had caught onto it by now. At this point, he wasn't sure how to approach the teenager. All his plans felt so complicated- as if someone was trying extremely hard to write a good idea, but the only ones who seemed to make any sort of sense were greatly difficult to portray. He sighed, his body limping in the air as if he was lying on a chair horribly wrong, his mind exhausted from all his thinking. He slackly watched Jonathan peacefully sit at his desk, writing homework, and bopping his head to the music playing in his headphones. Sock's mind then wandered back over to questioning what he could be listening to. What type of music was his favorite? What bands or artists did he enjoy listening to the most? Did he have a playlist he typically listened to?

Personally, Sock listened to a lot of different types of music styles. He wasn't actually that educated in music, like that one time when he thought punk and rock were the same things- or when he thought that pop music was singing about bubbles or carbonated drinks. He genuinely liked really weird music like those that sounded like you were on hardcore drugs, or that one music video from 2001 with the dancing girls, or generally really hyper songs. He could listen to about anything though, he wasn't that picky about music anyways.

Sock casually floated over beside Jonathan, watching with a dull expression while his hand was at work scribbling equations all over the paper, tapping his forehead as his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed concentrated, an intense glare cemented right onto the rough paper. The demon's eyes then decided on dancing across the different variables, hopping around the math problems, and the written solutions. His spheres continued to gaze across it out of fine weariness, the silence in the room continuing to gently stain his ears. Sock's circles landed on one particular puzzle, his eyelids uncovering somewhat and his mind starting to alter towards dissatisfaction. He guided his finger using his eyes, pointing it straight towards the problem in question.

"This answer is wrong."

Jonathan jumped slightly in his seat at the sudden finger coming into view, his eyes rising up to meet the orbs of none other than Sock. His mouth opened slightly, before swallowing and letting his eyelids fall. He then grabbed onto his headphones by putting his pen down, pulling them down so they sat comfortably in the crook of his neck.

"What." He said with an aloof tone, wanting an immediate answer so he could get to completing his painful homework. Sock picked up on the fact that Jonathan didn't catch his prior sentence, and provided his voice again.

"You answered question 6b wrong!"

Jonathan quirked an eyebrow, letting his eyes peer over and search for the path to question 6b. His face was in the midst of firmly irritated, moderately doubtful, and mildly interested. He ordered his orbs to travel to the floating figure leaning forward towards his desk, observing his face. The demon's expression was firm, determination glinting in his eyes as he awaited his response. The teenager heaved out a sigh, "Elaborate."

A smile tickled the demon's lips, and he began explaining how to solve the equation. His words were filled with mathematical terms and expressions, sounding like a specialist's speech was playing from Sock's voice box. Jonathan was honestly taken by surprise of how intelligent he sounded, he had sincerely never viewed the weird boy as someone who enjoyed math. The hoodie-wearing youngster tried pondering over how his grades in school looked.

"So that's why this equation doesn't equal 27, you forgot to subtract these numbers!" Sock's hands circled around in all kinds of directions as he tried to explain the answer as clear as he could, and Jonathan for once listened. It might've been a little hard to understand his rambling, though. He wasn't really the best at teaching, either.

"Wait, uh, what do you mean by that last thing?"

"Oh, Hm..." Sock looked at the pen in thought, knowing full well he could simply just grab it and start writing exactly what he meant, but an idea popped into his head as his speech became more dramatic. "...Oh, It would be _so_ much easier if I could just _write_ down what I meant! What a shame it is that I can't grab objects!" He shrugged, putting on a miserable expression to try and deceive Jonathan.

"You could hold onto my hand, right?" He replied after a while of thinking, and Sock's face brightened quickly, the longed moment happening right in front of him. He tried keeping himself from giggling as he hovered closer.

"You're right!" Sock beamed sparklingly as he leaned his hand forward, carefully gripping around Jonathan's hold on the pen. The soft and warm texture of his skin radiated against his cold and lifeless one, the tips of Sock's mouth continuing to elevate as seconds went by. His moment of delight was left short, though, as he tried focusing on writing out the equation to prevent the situation from getting too weird. He moved his hand along, using Jonathan's hand to write out the numbers and explaining it as he went on, the teenager's eyes following obediently in trying to understand the concept. He took in everything, feeling satisfied the moment he could make out the answer precisely. Maybe his grade would go up with the guidance of the rascal hanging about, he'd consider.

Jonathan felt a tug up his lips. Maybe it wasn't that bad having him around.

-

The demon couldn't stop thinking about it.

His mind keeps going back to that moment, where his hand was neatly wrapped around the others, his smile caressing him lightly. He could feel Jonathan's animated body, his consent laying smoothly in the air between them. His brain wouldn't dare let go of it, and he kept finding himself needing the contact more and more.

His eyes stared at Jonathan's hands as he nudged the controller violently, pressing the buttons on the remote as he grunted in frustration. The light from the television shined brightly into his blue pupils, and Sock found himself gazing right into them. His back was covered with the shadows the screen created, wrapping him in a dark invisible blanket.

The television kept delivering sounds, like crashing noises or character's screams. The wheels of the carts in the games squeaked, Jonathan's rapid hand movements following with most of them. His fingers started tinting red from the active stirring of his tips trying to push all the keys in a pattern that Sock was faintly familiar with. He'd bet that his hands were sweaty from all the stressing, his nails barely scratching the controller with his hurried movements.

And yet again, Sock was thinking about his hands.

He then caught himself, attentively lifting his head up to look out the window. Jonathan had been playing that game for quite a while now, the skies seeming to cry for the bright sun to come back and shower them with light again, the colors commencing to darken and mix in the above. He wondered how it'd feel to have the sun's rays laying on your skin right at this moment, burning it softly and leaving a little tan. He knew he'd never feel it again, being dead and all, but he kind of wished he could feel something like that again. Like the blazes from the big star burning him at the beach, or the cold yet calming stroke of moonlight in the middle of the night.

Jonathan's fingers then stopped, a breath heaving out from his lungs as he collapsed backward onto the floor he was seated on, finally withdrawing his attention from the game. He proceeded to look up at the ceiling, preventing his eyes from gazing at the demon who was silently seated beside him on the ground. The music from the television was the only thing that waved in the air for a while as Jonathan let his mind roam across his thoughts.

"Hey, Sock."

Sock's eyes immediately went alert, viewing the other with a curious glance. "Yeah?" A pause from dialogue entered the space, a calm little peace as the ghost awaited the other's question. It was almost like he was leaning forward, trying to catch the smallest of actions he performed. He tried predicting what the teenager would say by analyzing his face, but it stared straight up skyward, and nothing was showing prominently. Well, at least until he saw his eyebrows scrunch up like he was thinking of something strange or confusing. The silence lasted only for about less than a minute.

"...Have you been trying to get me to touch you ever since Sunday?"

Sock's eyes went wide, watching as the apathetic teenager's head turned to look at him, hands resting on his stomach. "Uhm..." He wasn't sure what to respond. A million questions rose in his little head. What would Jonathan think of him if he told him he did? How did he find out? Was it really that obvious? The friendly demon grasped his hat's ears, rubbing his thumb against them anxiously.

His voice dragged out stiffly, a sheepish grin made its way onto his face. "...Maybe?" Sock wasn't a liar, to be honest. He liked telling the truth. It was easy and genuine, but he could admit to lying sometimes. It's more like, he didn't exactly define himself as a liar. He just happened to do it very frequently- which was mostly for fun or to get away with something. But this time he found himself speechless, and he couldn't tell why.

Jonathan's presentation glared at him sternly and he sat up. He could see right through the demon, understanding the answer was yes. "So this whole time, you've been trying to just... touch me? Make physical contact?" He ran his hand through his hair, trying to recollect on the events of the day.

"Well..." Sock began, gulping as Jonathan's eyebrows never seemed to create any fewer wrinkles on his forehead. The demon lowered his eyes in uncertainty, finding the floor way too interesting then it should be. "I'm Sorry, Jon... I-"

"All these things you did- all these things you _have_ been doing- It's not even part of your strange haunting job! What's such a big deal with bothering me so much- just to like, hold my fucking hand?!" The demon's face heated up in shame as he flinched at his harsh words, fiddling around with the scarf hanging from his neck. "Aren't you supposed to make me stab myself or some shit? What does this even have to do with _any_ of that!?" As Jonathan's tone grew tenser, Sock's silence remained the same, his expression loaded to the brim with guilt. His shoulders were tense, pushing his scarf up to his sweating cheeks. "You're even with me on weekends, and I could barely take it on scheduled hours." Jonathan hissed under his breath with his fury slithering into his speech.

After a moment of thick silence, he dragged his hand across his face, his fingers pulling down at his skin as he sighed. "Why can't you just go away, Sock. Isn't there something better to do then to annoy some random guy?"

The ghost watched anxiously as the human himself laid down on the bed, looking at the gray dirty wall blankly. Biting his lips, the spirit let his eyes trace the brownish floor. His orbs continued wandering around the room, across all of the posters coated onto the wall, and out the window where the sky shined a beautiful ombre of sky blue, gold, and lavender. He liked those colors. Well, he liked all colors. Like the rainbow. It held all the different shades of the world, combining themselves into one incredible and powerful group. They were always together, sticking by each other's side as they filled the universe with joy and vibrantly expressing themselves upon the millions of landscapes. They lived in pure bliss, not a single bother worrying them as they continued to shine in the cosmos. Sock wondered how it'd feel to be a color.

"I-It's just that I-" Sock paused, awkwardly rubbing his thumbs together, Jonathan barley caring to listen anymore. "...I'm not exactly... alive, y'know? And like..." Sock suddenly didn't know what to do with his arms, or where to look. He kind of wished there was something he was fiddling with, like doodling on a paper or tearing open a bag of chips, or cutting little figures out of colored paper. His hands finally decided to grasp onto his scarf, feeling around on that alternatively. He felt as if his words were pouring out of tiny corners inside of him. "...I know I haven't been dead for long but... I really miss having, y'know, contact." Jonathan shuffled, Sock's hands raising as he looked at them with a defeated gaze. His sentences were cut up into parts, his breath chopping and creating holes in his dialogue. "And feeling us touching was just... I-It felt, I dunno... nice? Since I haven't really felt anything in a long time. I know- I know, It's weird but."

The supposed apathetic teenager let his face falter, a genuinely understanding look washing over him. He nonchalantly swatted his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever... I get it." Sock raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. "Ugh, sorry... I guess. I got a little riled up playing Mario Kart." He snickered a little, trying to lighten the mood after seeing how fragile the demon had gotten after his outburst. Even though having control over situations was nice, it almost felt as if he was breaking a puppy's heart.

"And... thanks for helping me out earlier, and stuff." Sock seemed to light up a little bit at that.

"I'm glad I could help!" A smile shined on his face, spreading to Jonathan as he turned around to lay on his back. His eyes landed on Sock's silly hat as the other spoke. "I guess I'm not really that good at my job..." He scratched his back nervously with a short laugh, feeling like the air was tickling him quietly. "Obviously," Jonathan gave him a playful smirk, and Sock wasn't sure if he should feel offended or not. "and I'm still mad at you for annoying me so much, and trying to get me to kill myself constantly. Don't go around thinking we're even." Even though Jonathan was giving him a slight glare, Sock didn't feel as pressured as he should be. He was actually sort of content, a warm little taste at his chest. The Homosapien took a deep breath, locking his eyes shut.

"Can I stay with you overnight?"

Jonathan was about to say no but felt a reluctant feeling inside of him. He was too tired to deal with this right now anyway, feeling like a second pair of eye bags were getting plastered onto his face, so he accepted.

"Sure, Just... keep your mouth shut, I'm tired as fuck."

Sock adjusted his googles happily as his eyes hiked over to the form lying defeated on the bed. The sun had finally settled, the dark blue filling up the sky. The moons peaceful light started reflecting into Sock's spheres from the window. A soft grin drew at his lips. He slowly floated forward, observing as the teenager started drifting off into dreamland. He sighed quietly, letting his shoulders drop.

The demon solidified against the floor, sitting down and leaning his side against the bed with his elbow laying on the soft mattress. He could feel it. His gaze was kept on Jonathan's resting figure, his breathing shallow, yet deep. A little smile tickled at his lips when he watched the slow rise of his chest. It was almost as if he was reaching for something high up in the night sky. Like a cloud, or space, or something beyond the galaxy. Something out there that nobody knew existed, a completely new concept. Maybe deep down Jonathan was wishing for something, and Sock didn't know. He didn't know his hopes, his dreams, or anything at all. He never talked to him about things like that.

As the fall of his chest began, Sock felt himself sink into the mattress. It was like a sweet embrace was pulling him down, a weight that made him feel like his heart was growing. It drew him down like a mother's concerned love, his eyes lowering when he saw the continuous pattern of Jonathan's breathing.

Every time his chest would rise, he'd think about what he strived for. He'd think about the time he held hands with Jonathan at the ditch, and the excitement rushing through him at a new possibility. He'd think about the little rising tingle at the back of his head when he saw Jonathan's picture for the first time. He'd think about the rising anxiety when first encountering him, his hands shaking slightly as the feeling mixed with the thrill of meeting someone new. The way Jonathan was so tricky to get to, it got a rise out of him. Like the rise of a hand reaching out to the galaxies and trying to stretch beyond it, hoping for something. Hoping for something he's always wanted. The rise of a feeling he never knew existed. The rise of a feeling like he finally had some kind of resemblance to a _friend_.

Every time his chest would fall, his muscles would relax. He'd sink deeper and deeper into a warm little room filled with a fireplace and neat blankets. He'd feel the soft caress of cloth, holding him in a pleasant little hug. His smile would continue to play on his lips, his eyelids sinking with the motion of the other. He'd think about how warm it was here, and how much he was feeling. He'd think about how little he had before. Nobody was there, his lonely petty bloody hands holding onto the lifeless squirrel with a frown. The disgusting mix of warm tears and cold blood. It was deep there. He was falling when nobody answered his pleas for warmth. Whenever he'd go down, there'd always be a dark basement crawling with spiders and snakes. The tiles would be cold, his skin brushing against it as he'd lean against the wall and let himself slip. He'd fall, always. He'd always continue collapsing deeper and deeper. But not this time. His fall would be stopped by something soothing.

Sock let his eyelids close, his head resting on Jonathan's waist.


End file.
